Better
by Nakimochiku
Summary: Grimmjow was, in every way, only second best to Ulquiorra. Ulqui x Grimm, oneshot, enjoy.


Better

Grimmjow was the kind of person who was not satisfied unless he was the best. Number six or not, he'd always managed to beat the other espada at something. To him, he automatically became the best. Wether it was to be faster, stronger, smarter, sharper. He relied on his guts, and his instincts always pulled through for him. He always won, and he was always the best.

Except with a certain diminutive black haired fourth who managed to beat him in just about every challenge he'd ever issued. even drawing! Even though he wasn't very good at drawing in the first place, but that wasn't the point. The point was that Ulquiorra was number one. Ulquiorra could beat him. Ulquiorra was _better_ than him. And he couldn't have that. He was the king!

This game would not end without a definite champion being found. Ulquiorra had made him promise that this would be the last challenge he could ever make. And unthinkingly, he'd let the fourth pick what their last battle would be, thinking it'd be a nice 'friendly' spar.

He was, of course, wrong.

The stupid, short, apathetic, green eyed ball of angst had chosen something so horrible he'd been in shock for a full five minutes (not counting how many times he asked Ulquiorra to repeat the challenge). Ulquiorra, with had smug glint in his eyes, calmly whispered. "We shall play chess."

He had too much pride to tell Ulquiorra he didn't know how to play chess, but he got the feeling the fourth already knew, and was having a good time watching him struggle. So softly, he told him what each piece was capable of, guiding his hand as he moved his knight, his pawn. Ulquiorra was having fun.

But he was frustrated. _'Dammit, I'm losing here, I know I am.'_ he wasn't sure if Ulquiorra was cheating by guiding him, or it was just his own incompetence, but he hated losing. Losing meant he was less than the best. He growled quietly as Ulquiorra's bishop drew closer to his king. (The fourth had at least enough decency to explain the object of the game)

Ulquiorra allowed himself a half smirk as his eyes flickered up to Grimmjow's face. "How about..." he said quietly, drawing the sixth's attention. "We up the ante, a little?" Grimmjow leered, in a way that told him he was listening. "If I win, you shall give me a kiss." whatever confidence Grimmjow had was quickly thrown away.

"Wha–?! Why?!" Grimmjow sputtered, backing away from the fourth in horror. Ulquiorra didn't answer. Instead he looked down at the board. Grimmjow had only 3 pawns and a king left. His queen was gone, and he decided that, if anything, he should simply protect his king with the pawns. "It's my turn..." he let a pawn move up a step. He hadn't even bothered asking Ulquiorra confidently what would happen should he win. Because he already knew this was lost.

"Let's go a little farther, shall we?" Ulquiorra suggested. "I get to do what I want to you for a full 24 hours." Grimmjow nodded solemnly. If he was going to lose, then he could at least go down with dignity. Though he had the strange feeling that Ulquiorra would be stripping even that from him.

Ulquiorra placed his bishop in front of Grimmjow's king, schooling his face to look indifferent. "Checkmate." he said humbly, taking the king into cold pale fingers. Grimmjow took a deep breath, pushing away the chess board, scattering the pieces. He was used to this. It had been Ulquiorra's prize from the third time he'd challenged him and onwards. Smug look of victory ironed smoothly onto his face (though to anyone else, it looked as cold as ever), Ulquiorra pushed Grimmjow's white jacket off his shoulders, pulling the sixth into his lap.

Cold fingers explored his chest, though he was sure Ulquiorra knew every curve and muscle of his body by now. Soft lips traveled up his neck, to his lips. The fourth's other hand rested firmly on his hip. In another instant, Ulquiorra had captured his mouth in a kiss.

Grimmjow scowled, settling himself in Ulqiorra's lap as pale hands reached into his hakama. Gasping, he ground out, "next time, we're playing poker."

"Strip poker, I hope, Grimmjow." Ulquiorra answered happily.

OWARI

_mmmm. I had to write something, so when this popped up I was more than happy to comply!_


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